If there were no schools to take the children away from home part of the time, the insane asylums would be filled with mothers. ~Edgar W. Howe

Summer is officially over for our family: today is my older son’s first day of school.

Last week my younger son started 7th grade. I took the obligatory first day of school pictures and dropped him off to school early enough, so he could meet up with his friends and compare class schedules. He was not eager about getting back into the routine of classes and homework, but he looked forward to seeing his friends and the social life of middle schoolers.

On the other hand, my older son was excited about his first day of school and seeing his baseball teammates, receiving a new class schedule, and anticipating meeting new faces joining the student body. Junior year means being an upperclassman; the heady feeling of authority, but still beneath the seniors. He begged off a photo and jumped in the car, ready to go.

Growing up, I loved the first day of school: new clothes, new school supplies, and a new chapter. I remember the look on my mom’s face as she waved goodbye and sent my brothers and me off to school. That look was always bittersweet, evenly bordering on happiness and sadness.

As I drove my son to the train station this morning, I felt myself getting sentimental. On one hand, I was happy to have the house to myself for seven hours straight so I could write and focus on client projects but with both kids back in school, it also means that my vacation is over as well, and I too will go back into a structured routine. No more lazy mornings. No more procrastinating and putting things off until later. No more spontaneous outings with the kids.

The memories and laughter of summer with both of my children echoes in my heart and in my mind. I know these days are precious and that in a few short years, these “First Day of School” days will be over; I will eventually be in a permanently structured routine in an empty house. I prefer not to think about this, so instead, I continue to enjoy each day with them – even if it means ignoring their messy bedrooms, socks and underwear left on the floor, and the toilet seat that seems to always be left up. These things, as annoying as they are, are just the simple reminders that they are still young and our home is vibrant with teenagers.

In the meantime, I’ll put my feet up and have a second cup of coffee. I have less than three hours before they both come home from school to enjoy a slice of peace and quiet.